How to Get Downsized

Within a few minutes, the phone rang. Soon enough, the dreaded words were coming down the line. "I'm sorry, but ..." And so ended my two-and-a-half-year stint as an editor.

I'd been downsized.

***

I've never been one for regular jobs. For the most part, I've been a freelance journalist. I've also been a copywriter, a waitress, a TV pundit, a nanny, a social media strategist, a cocktail waitress and a blogger. For one night, I had a job that required me to clean a public toilet; I never went back.

The idea of working in a cubicle gives me hives. I don't get why people trade their lives for nine-to-five jobs they don't even like. I'd rather have the risk that comes with self-employment than sellout to the highest bidder. Of course, that's a choice that doesn't include company health insurance, a 401(k) or paid vacation days.

I'd had this editing gig for two-and-a-half years. It had grown from part-time to full-time. The money was good. Now, I was unemployed. I was terrified.

That day, I wrote a post on my blog: "Hire Me." I announced I'd been let go, outlined my talents, and asked everyone to spread the word that I was seeking employment.

***

$1,000 paid via PayPal for your used panties- Multiple pairs....

A few days later, the email showed up in my in-box. In a way, I was flattered. Some guy I didn't know wanted to pay a grand for my already-been-worn underwear? This would be easy. Years ago, working on a story, I'd watched a porn star stuff her ostensibly used thongs into Ziploc bags to be shipped off to her fans who'd paid for them.

I could sit around all day in my underpants and sell them to the highest bidder. But what would he do with my underpants once he got them? The possibilities were ... disquieting. Selling my used panties wasn't for me.

After my post went live, I linked to it on Facebook and Twitter. I emailed the link to men and women. Men responded by introducing me to someone who was in a position to hire me, by sending me links to job listings that could be a fit, or by directing me to opportunities that resulted in paying work.

Women responded emotionally -- with support or sympathy. Men responded proactively. Women responded passively -- or not at all. Every response that led to paying work was from a man.

***

TIP #2: Be flexible, or die.

At one point, I got an email from a man I didn't know. He had seen the downsized post. Another man I didn't know had sent him the link. The men worked for a colossal-sized PR and communications company. They were looking for a freelance copywriter. I had never worked before as a copywriter. In fact, I had to look up what a copywriter was, to be sure. At no point did anybody ask me if I had previous experience as a copywriter. Because I was not asked, I did not state I had no experience as a copywriter.

Now, I write Facebook and Twitter posts for an inanimate object. You are probably familiar with this inanimate object because it is an iconic American brand. I pretend to be the inanimate object while crafting the Facebook and Twitter posts that are supposed to be from the mind of the inanimate object.

As it turns out, I am very good at channeling the inner-thoughts of an inanimate object. Or at least this particular one. This part-time, paid-by-the hour job pays more per hour than any job I have ever had.

In "Life After Death: Two Years Since the Demise of My Newspaper," former Rocky Mountain News editor, president and publisher John Temple finds out what happened to the 194 members of his newspaper's editorial team after they were let go two years ago and concludes: "The skills of a journalist ... are transferable to other jobs." He is not lying.

***

TIP #3: Getting downsized is good for you.

The day after I was downsized, I got an email from a former editor. Last year, I was a blogger for True/Slant, a platform where journalists such as myself were paid to blog about pretty much whatever we wanted. But in May, the site was acquired by Forbes Media, and in July, True/Slant went dark.

Most bloggers were let go, although a handful of us were told we would be brought on at Forbes.com at some point in the future. Every once in a while, I would email my True/Slant-turned-Forbes editor, but the timing was never right. This time, he wanted to talk.

On the phone, I pitched him a few ideas for blogs.

"I had this idea," I ventured. "I could write a blog about being downsized."

That was Pink Slipped.

Next: Love for sale.

Want to hire me? Email me. Special thanks to Jim Murphy for naming this blog.